


Tell Me Nothing

by aliccolo (guti)



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guti/pseuds/aliccolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter doesn't ever shut up. Matt decides to make him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Nothing

He doesn't ever shut up. Ever. Not even when he's all alone, naked, bound and blindfolded, strapped to the bed, body spread out and vulnerable, on display for anyone with functioning eyes to see. He just keeps talking, babbling, saying and accomplishing nothing, just making noise, amusing himself at the top of his lungs, not pausing for a moment to breathe or shut up. Ten minutes pass, then thirty, then sixty, and he's still speaking, cracking wise to the invisible audience in the bedroom, and to his captor in his office a few doors down.

It is comforting, in a way, listening through the walls to Peter randomly discussing his favorite of the 'Police Academy' movies with himself, debating the merits of free range poultry, trying to keep himself occupied, waiting for Matt's return, waiting to be freed from his restraints. He occasionally muses about the length of time he has been held captive, occasionally bemoans his neglected state, loudly reminding Matt that if he really wanted to, he'd have freed himself by now. But he still keeps talking, busying himself enough that Matt is able to accomplish all the work he needed for court in the morning. And that in itself makes this little experiment worth it. 

Peter doesn't even notice when the bedroom door opens again. He's too busy regaling himself with the tale of that one time he and Johnny encountered the Goom to hear the approaching footsteps, too entranced in his own tales of heroics to recognize how dangerously close Matt is until it is too late. Daredevil is straddling him, hand pressed firmly to his throat before Peter can even say hello. 

"Don't you ever shut up?" Matt's voice is steady, deep, and without any emotion. It's so cold it almost makes Peter shiver. 

"Aw come on now, Red, you know me better than that. The question you should be asking is--" 

"Hush." Matt doesn't seem to appreciate the humor, and if he does, he's not inclined to admit it. Not now anyway, not when he's got Peter tied up and at his (relative) mercy. The hand at Peter's throat relaxes, fingers trail down his neck idly, slowly tracing along his collar bone, memorizing Peter's chest with his fingertips. His hand stills as it rests above Peter's heart, beating slow and steady, a signature beat that Matt can't ever forget. "No more talking."

Peter pouts a little, forgetting momentarily that the effort is wasted on Matt. He instead sighs dramatically, snorting out his nose for good measure, just to be certain Matt understands how very much he disagrees with that idea. "Matt. Matty. Be reasonable. Asking me to stop talking is like asking you to stop dating insane, murderous women. It's not gonna happen. So let's just, you know, start by untying me...then we can discuss something more--" 

"That wasn't a request." 

Peter blinks beneath the blindfold, genuinely startled by the sudden finality in Matt's tone. Startled, yes, but not enough to keep quiet for more than five seconds. He tried, he really did, but curiosity got the better of him, just enough to make him growl out a soft line of bait, "You gonna make me?" 

Matt doesn't say anything at first, and Peter wonders if he should be worried. This lingering feeling is amplified by Matt's hand traveling slowly back up his chest, back past his collar bone, back to his throat. His breath catches, just barely, but loud enough for Matt to hear it and almost drop his tough-guy facade long enough to smile. "That depends. Do you want me to make you?" 

"That depends." Peter caught the half-smirk in Matt's voice, but he's too busy being distracted by the moment to react properly. He pauses and takes a deep breath, pulse racing in his neck, no doubt quite a symphony for Matt's ears and a sensation for his fingertips. He has about a million clever answers on the tip of his tongue, but none of them seem especially cute with Daredevil looming over his bound and blinded body, hand pressed firmly to what Peter is sure must be some sort of insta-kill pressure point. 

"On?" Matt shifts on top of him, sliding up his torso in a way that Peter is certain must look entirely obscene. It feels obscene anyway. Peter makes a face, laughing nervously, nearly tempted to muscle his way out of his restraints, if only so he could gain some ounce of control, even if it was just to brace himself on the headboard. 

"Well, I gotta know, buddy. You thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"Do I look like a psychic?" Matt mumbled, voice thick with something Peter might liken to lust. He might have likened it even more to lust if he could see Matt's expression right before he started sucking roughly on Peter's pulse. 

"Hmm, yep, okay, we're on the same page. Keep doing that." 

Matt laughs softly, whispering something inaudible against Peter's neck, inaudible to everyone but himself. Not that it especially mattered what he was saying, so long as he didn't stop. Peter doesn't want him to stop, not ever. Parker might be mouthy, but Murdock was the real silver tongued devil in this scenario. And he kept going lower, and harder, biting at his victim's flesh like a cannibal of some kind. Peter's back arched, and he smiled dreamily, content to let him gnaw on his hipbone and drag his teeth across his skin. He likes Matt's mouth. A lot.

"Stop humming." 

Peter wrinkled his nose inquisitively, eyebrow raised pointlessly behind the blindfold. It took him a moment to get his tongue to function again, he'd been lulled into such a brilliant, peaceful silence, it was like he'd completely forgotten how to speak. "Huh?" 

He stops that awesome teasing thing he was doing with his mouth to the skin just below Peter's navel. "You're humming 'Maneater'. It's kind of distracting." He sounds entirely unimpressed. 

Was he really? Really? Peter makes a face and laughs sheepishly, shrugging against his restraints in a way the Matt could definitely feel. The shrug only elicits a warning noise from him, and before Peter could make a dazzlingly witty retort of any kind, his whole position had changed, and suddenly their roles are somewhat reversed. Matt is suddenly straddling the helpless little spider, crawled up his body with such stealth and speed that even if Peter hadn't been blindfolded, he would have been forced to remark on it. 

Damn ninjas. 

But as it was now, he finds himself unable to speak. No, no, his mouth is being forcefully occupied with something much more important. Namely Matt's erection. Peter almost laughs. This is almost comical. If he wasn't so busy sucking on Matt's cock, he surely would have commented on how strangely fitting this was, to be teased and coaxed into silence with the promise of an amazing blow job only to be tricked into giving one instead.

"That shut you up, didn't it?" Matt chuckles softly, tapping Peter's cheek lightly, tugging the blindfold off and tossing it randomly aside. Peter winced at the sudden intrusion of light, but he doesn't miss a beat, continuing dutifully at the task at hand. Or rather, at mouth. He's never minded giving head, and he can tell Matt likes it by the look on his face, by the desperate curve in his lips and the way his body arches toward Peter's mouth. "Hmm...Why didn't I think of this before?" 

He's tempted to stop and jerk his head back and lecture that smug, self-satisfied, crazy sexy look right of Murdock's smarmy little face. But he is a better man than that. He wouldn't tease the man and lure him into a state of calm with sweet oral pleasures just to pull away and snicker at him. Besides, Matt is a reasonable guy. Sometimes. Usually. And Peter knew full well this was a quid pro quo type situation. Spidey would get his payback. Someday. 

Hopefully. 

Matt grunts something and suddenly Peter's back in the real world. Funny how sucking cock makes his mind wander to thoughts of revenge... 

"What?" He tilts his head away, staring up at him with innocent Bambi eyes. A completely wasted expression, but totally necessary. Matt doesn't say a word. Again. Typical broody, sulky silence. Except Matt doesn't look like he was brooding or sulking. Nope, nope. From this angle, he looks positively evil. Peter can't stop shivering again for some reason, watching cautiously as one by one Matt removed the restraints and his limbs were suddenly freed.

"I said 'turn over and let me fuck you'." 

He blinks, stretching his wrists and legs instinctively, daring to laugh at the command. But he makes no motion to move though, nope, he's content to expand across Matt's bed like a cat, taking up as much room as possible, grinning like a defiant little boy. "You didn't say the magic word, Matty." 

"That wasn't a request." 

Peter laughs again, ignoring the death glare being lobbed his way. He knows this game, he knows full well what Matt is capable of, and he isn't about to fall for any idle threats. Besides, he's in no hurry, he's not the one all hot and bothered here, whether or not Matt gets off is none of his concern. Okay, well, it might be. Except that Peter's a pretty good tease himself, when he wants to be. "You know how they say it takes two to tango? Well, what if I don't feel like dancing. Ever think of that, lawyer boy?" 

Matt just stares at him in that vague, absent way that can sometimes be fucking unnerving. It's like he's looking through Peter, or intently studying his brain or something. It's weird. It weirds him out sometimes, he'll admit it. And it takes him a few seconds to tear his eyes from Matt's eyes and fully appreciate the look on the poor sap's face. Matt's always been an open book when it comes to expressions, but this look he's giving Peter right now is one for the record books. It's like if every bad romance novel cover ever produced somehow cross-bred with the music video for 'Wicked Game' and produced a facial expression. That is the level of longing radiating off Matt Murdock's face right now. It's radiating off his entire body, actually. 

And it's really fucking hot. 

"Don't lie to me. Just turn over. Now" 

And his voice is cracking with need too. And Peter isn't sure he even wants to tease him anymore. And before he even realizes what he's done, he's obediently flipped over, their hips align, and without any further prelude or preamble, just a little saliva and a whole lot of need, Matt is inside of him. 

Fucking him. Hard and fast and angry. It's like Matt's taking revenge or something, the way he moves, brutally, like he's taking everything out on him, like all the frustration he's been building up over the last however long is being channeled and released through this one act. He doesn't relent, he doesn't hold back, not even for a second. He just fucks Peter however he likes it, because he knows Peter can take it. 

And take it he does, panting, moaning, gasping, but surprisingly, not speaking. There's no talking at all, nothing witty to be said, just animalistic sounds that both of them understand. That along with the motions of their bodies is enough to communicate everything either of them needs to know. 

Wordlessly, Peter grabs Matt's hand off his hip and slips it over his cock, and then it's like perfection. Everything is in sync, and all the teasing from a few moments ago doesn't even matter. 

It's not marathon sex or anything. In fact, it's as quick as it is rough and needy. Matt finishes first. He always does. It's probably something to do with the heightened senses, Peter doesn't know for sure. And he doesn't really care, not when the wave of pleasure hits him and he's finishing in Matt's hand, curling into a small, satisfied heap. Matt is sitting back on his heels, slumped, catching his breath and letting his senses catch up and calm down. 

Peter is quiet for fifteen seconds. Fifteen blissful, silent seconds before, "Matty?" 

"Shhh." A arm waved dismissively, and a mildly miffed glare. 

"Matt." 

A sharp growl, and this time, Daredevil covers his ears in vain. All the pleasure from the sex was forgotten and replaced by a long, drawn out sigh. Well, not all of it. But his ears were practically burning from the sound, from the pounding of both their hearts, so loud and familiar, from their breathing, from the radio blaring in a parked car two blocks away. It's all noise and chaos and commotion, and it's giving Matt a headache. "Don't you ever shut up?"

Several clever answers spring to Peter's mind, all of them cute and utterly hilarious. But he's a better man than that. Instead, he just laughs, reaching to pull Matt down onto the bed with him, grinning smugly as he claimed his victory. "Nope."


End file.
